


All The Things We Cannot Want

by Pollydoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7885747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following their unintentional tryst, Wanda simply cannot drive Steve from her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Things We Cannot Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Wanda’s got two fingers inside herself as the shower spray cascades against her and she’s so close to calling his name as she comes that she misses the sound of her own name the first time he says it. Water hitting her face as she blinks her eyes open, heart thumping hard against the inside of her chest so strongly it almost hurts, she stills in the act. 

“St-Steve?” She calls, shakily, and reminds herself that even if she’s left the shower door unlocked by mistake, Steve Rogers is not the type of man to walk in on a girl in the shower. 

Apparently she’s wrong, because through the steam and condensation she sees him hove into view. With a barely concealed yelp she pulls her fingers free and scrambles for the screen door, looking to hook a towel into the cubicle. As she cracks the door, she catches sight of his face and sees that his eyes are screwed shut. 

“What are you doing?” She asks, relaxing a little now that she knows he’s not looking at her naked body. Her fingers tighten on the edge of the glass door as he blushes a deep pink and clears his throat.

“It’s uh, it’s what you’re doing, Wanda.” Steve says quietly, and his blush darkens. Her mouth drops open and her brain fights to tell her that there’s no way he’s talking about the fact that she’s been thinking about him, tracing soft fingers over herself and imagining that it’s him when she shudders against her hand. 

Wrong again. 

“You’re, uh, you’re projecting,” He says, louder this time, as though being more definite about what he’s saying will make the situation any easier on either of them. “The… The things you’re thinking about, about me - about us.”

“I’m sorry.” She says faintly, because she’s embarrassed and doesn’t know what else she can possibly say to that. 

“I can’t listen to it anymore, Wanda.” Steve says, and she starts because she’s been looking anywhere but at him and suddenly he’s a fingers breadth away from her and gazing right back at her. 

“What’re you-”

“You tell me.” Steve says, hauling his sweater over his head and dropping it on the bathroom tiles behind him before his fingers fumble at his fly and shuck his jeans to the floor as well. Wanda feels faint as she looks at him, naked now because apparently Steve goes commando, cock already hard and curving up towards the planes of his stomach. 

He has one hand on the shower door and his blue eyes are full of heat as he looks down at her. 

“Is this what you want, Wanda?” He asks in a low voice, close but still not touching her. The warmth of the spray is still hitting her, trickling down her body and even though it’s hot her nipples are peaked and standing to attention. “It’s what I’m seeing in my head, when you’re in the shower, or late at night when you’re in bed.”

Wanda closes her eyes and shudders, remembering all the times she’s slipped a hand between her legs, twisting and jerking until she comes with Steve’s name in her head. All after that time, that one time where she’d done what he’d asked, become the girl whose face had haunted him over decades. 

Her mind has slipped this way and that since then, imagining that he’s taking her any way he cares to, making her his and his alone. The time he’d winked at her over the breakfast table and her mind had erupted into fantasy, imagining herself bent over the counter and Steve knelt behind her with his tongue between her legs. The time he’d pushed her out of the way of a gunshot blast, and they’d rolled together in the middle of the street, over and over, and she’d come to rest under him and only just stopped herself from jerking her hips up against him and pressing her lips to his. The time he’d stumbled back through the door after a mission, bloodied and with a ripped uniform, and she’d come three times thinking about what it would be like to peel it off him as she sat in his lap and rode his cock. 

Steve lets out a low groan and drops his head forward, breathing hard, and Wanda realises that she’s doing it again - that she’s just projected a very clear and detailed picture of the pair of them, Steve’s cock buried deep inside her, and Wanda bouncing her way to a full throated scream as she clenches around him. 

“That how you want it?” He says, eyes shut and voice so low it’s practically a growl in her ear. Wanda finds herself unable to do anything but nod her acquiesce, then realises that he’s not looking at her and can’t see it, so she presses a tentative kiss against his lips. 

Steve kisses her back, hard, stepping into the shower and pushing her back up against the tiled wall. The water rains down over both of them, and he’s suddenly gone from her mouth to kiss his way across her collarbone and then lower, sucking a nipple into his mouth as she moans quietly above him. 

“Think it’s about time I show you what I’d like, ‘stead of just being privy to your thoughts.” He’s saying to her, and she can barely concentrate with the blood pounding in her ears and the water still beating down over them, but she nods and he drops to his knees with a grin, nudging her legs apart. 

He teases his tongue over her, already wet from the thought of him and her own attentions, and his breath ghosts warm across her as she rolls her head back against the tiles. Steve, on his knees, slides his tongue up and down, maddeningly slow until she’s jerking against his mouth uncontrollably. 

Steve presses a kiss to her and Wanda moans, hands clenching at her sides and her body starting to tremble under his ministrations, light as they are. His name is on her lips like a mantra, and he looks up at her, the shower flattening his hair against his head and his blue eyes burning across her. 

He slips a finger upwards, teasing along from the inside of her knee, up her inner thigh which shudders under his touch, and joins his tongue between her legs. He slides it inside her, crooking it forward and Wanda’s back arches against the tiles. Steve’s free hand is flat against her hip and she’s grateful for it holding her in place. She can’t help but rock against his mouth as he works her, hot and heavy, before he slides another finger in to join the first and she cries out at the feel of it tight inside her. 

Steve’s busy tracing his name over her, again and again, flicking his tongue quick then slow, and Wanda finds her hands clutching at his head as he fucks his fingers into her, thrusting with just enough power to have her fingers fisting in his blond hair. 

She’s nearly out of her mind with what he’s doing, and it’s drifting again to thoughts of him taking her against the wall, picking her up with ease and sliding straight in. Maybe as she’s coming from his tongue, just thrusting his cock up into her whilst she’s still jerking around him, taking his sweet time until he explodes inside her. 

“That what you want, huh?” Steve says, pulling back and grinning, and Wanda realises that she’s been projecting again. She bites at her lower lip, and Steve swipes his tongue over her again before standing up. The water hits his back as he stands in front of her, arms now caging around her head and he’s leaning in close but not yet kissing her. 

Wanda breathes deep, and her breasts brush against his chest as she does. She can feel his cock nudging at her, slipping between her legs and subconsciously she widens her stance and leans back on tip toes, lengthening her body so that she’s more in line with him. The movement has his cock resting fully against her and she bites back a moan as she feels him slide across. 

Steve grins again, looking down, and rolls his hips slowly so that the blunt head of his cock, wet from the shower and from where he’s been skating between her legs, is pushing into her - just barely. He controls the movement, pushing and retreating, no other part of himself touching her until she’s about ready to fall to her knees and beg for him to take her. 

“Steve-” She chokes out, and he thrusts into her without warning, driving upwards and burying himself as deeply as she can take him. “Oh god,” Wanda moans into his shoulder, and Steve’s grunting as he works his hips back and forth, pinning her against the wall. She can feel the water sliding down his back as her hands tangle together behind his head, still raining down upon them as he picks up speed and she’s just there for the ride. 

He hooks one strong arm under her left leg and wraps it around his hip, her right foot on tiptoe and she’s crying out now, his name mixed with a creative succession of curse words, English, Sokovian and some she thinks she might have made up. He’s hot and hard inside her as he moves, and he’s bouncing her between the wall and his hips. 

Wanda feels herself begin to tighten around him, and she clutches at his shoulders as her heart starts to shudder in her chest. His mouth curls into a smile as he looms over her, eyes burning with a bright-hot intensity. 

“You gonna come for me, Wanda?” 

She rolls her head back against the wall to look at him, and nods, unable to conjure anything more than that with the way he's moving within her.

Steve’s voice was low, a growl in her ear and he accompanied it with a deep snap of his hips that had his cock curling deliciously inside her, and she does come then, loud and hard and shuddering against him as he tightens his grip on her leg still wrapped around him. 

Wanda’s eyes have drifted closed in the aftermath of it, and she’s barely registering the fact that Steve’s pulled out and urging her to her knees on the shower tray. Wanda goes willingly, still aglow and mind twisting with the images he’s presented her with. Hands and knees she’s presented to him, the shower spray hitting her back and rolling over her hips, clinging to her curves and dripping between her legs to mingle with the slick that’s gathered there. 

Steve readys himself, hands on her hips and bent over her, whispered into her ear that he’s hard for her, so goddamned hard and she’s done this to him, teasing him for weeks with the images that have burst from her mind. Half memory, the way he’d taken his pleasure from her in his bed, and half the deep desire she’d been burning for him for some time anyway. 

His cock, still hard, slick and shining from being inside her, curves underneath her and nudges between her legs as one of his hands sneaks from her hip and finds its way south. Wanda jerks against him with a small cry, sensitive but still needy as he rubs and twists over her. She’s wet still, wanting him with a deep need that would frighten her a little if she’d stop to bother to think on it properly. 

“God, Wanda, you’re so good.” He groans into her ear, still fingering across her, his cock ready for action and slipping alongside his fingers as he works. She preens at his words, always so ready for praise from him, glad that he’s finding what he apparently wants in her, as much as she’s finding what she needs in him. 

Wanda pushes back against him, the curve of her ass meeting his hips and the way they round against her, and he curses hard - something she rarely hears from him, and she feels a sudden rush of warmth and wetness at the sound of his voice and the way it rolls off his tongue when he says it - before slamming into her again. 

She gasps, the breath stolen from her lungs at the force he’s used to do it, and the hand that’s not still currently engaged in activity between her thighs drifts from her hip to her breast, kneading and teasing over her until she’s gasping from pleasure. 

Wanda pushes back against him, encouraging him until they’re bumping together with a wild rhythm that’s hitting all of her good spots. She throws her head back, wet hair slapping against her back as the water still thunders against them, hot and stinging and offsetting the sweet pleasure that Steve is giving her - hard, and fast and with his own breath starting to catch in his throat as he speeds up. 

His hand is still working over her, and she’s not sure it’s possible for her to come again but she does, somehow, weakly against his insistent fingers and then he’s jerking inside of her with his own release, panting hard and somewhat brokenly into her ear, still bent over her as he comes. 

Five rooms away, Steve Rogers jerks awake with an erection tenting his bedclothes uncomfortably and a mind full of images that aren’t his own. He spreads out on his bed, breath coming hard from his lungs as he tries desperately not to, staring up at the ceiling and trying to take his mind off it by counting the non-existent cracks in the moonlight. 

Wanda needed to stop thinking of him like that. But, as his hand crept towards his pyjama trousers and his eyes squeezed shut, Steve thought he’d deal with it in the morning.

Probably.


End file.
